The Girl With No Last Name
by ElisePotterFreak
Summary: Indigo, better known as Indie, has spent her whole life in an orphanage hoping for adoption. One day she gets a visitor and she begins her cautious exploration of the world she always knew was there, right on the edges of reality. Follow Indie as she goes to Hogwarts, campaigns for causes, makes friends, and discovers the meaning of family.


**A/N: This is the first story I've ever posted on here, so be nice to me. I really really appreciate constructive criticism, so please don't just say "your story sucks" tell me why so I can try to improve in the future. Thanks! **

**Also, this chapter is short, sorry. I'm just setting up the story. (: **

What was that incessant noise? Indie snuggled further down into her covers not wanting to admit what she knew. The terrible shrieking was the morning bell and she was supposed to get up and get ready for the day. Heaving a sigh, she wrenched back the covers and climbed out into the chilly air. Luckily, Indie's rotation put her on evening showers, so she was not part of the morning rush-and-shove for the bathrooms. She gathered up her supplies and made her way to the vanity to brush her teeth and hair. Now to find a volunteer to charm. Indie spotted the girl, late teens early twenties maybe looking a little lost, as if she was new to the place. Indie hadn't seen her before, so perhaps she was.

"Excuse me?" Indie batted her long eyelashes up at the girl.

"Oh, yes?" the girls attention was now focused solely on Indie.

"I was wondering if you could style my hair," Indie asked sweetly.

The girl grinned. "Of course! Here, sit down." She sat down on a bed and patted a spot next to her for Indie. "I used to do my little sister's hair all the time. Of course, now she does it herself, I'm at University now. How about a waterfall braid?"

Indie nodded. "Sure! How old is your sister?" she asked.

The older girl's deft hands weaved Indie's hair around itself in a pretty but simple braid. "She's sixteen now. How old are you?"

"Ten," Indie replied easily, waiting for the shock. It would come. It always did. The 'why hasn't this girl been adopted yet?' shock. Indie wished she knew the answer to that as well.

"Are you the oldest here?" the girl asked casually.

Indie shook her head. "No, Bertie Shaw is older, he's thirteen. And Gemma Powell is almost twelve. But most of us don't like them. Bertie is mean and Gemma is pretty stuck up." Indie had been here long enough to know how to play the game.

The girl patted Indie's shoulders. "You're done! So, you know better than me, what happens next?"

"Breakfast." Indie stood up, scanning the room for her little charge. They always gave the difficult ones to Indie, sort of a responsibility for her, and a comfort blanket to the little one. "Thanks for doing my hair. I've got to find Olive." Sure enough, four year old Olive was frantically looking for Indie.

The ten year old slipped her hand into her little charge's hand. "It's time for breakfast now, Livvy," she smiled, using her special nickname for the girl.

Olive relaxed. "I couldn't find you."

"I was making friends with the volunteers. You ought to do the same, Liv. It gets you all the nice things." There had been a middle aged woman who came every day for three years. Indie had cosied up to her and started to call her mama and the woman had bough Indie pretty clothes and hair ribbons and things. Then she had stopped coming. She had written Indie a letter saying that she loved the girl, but it had just gotten too hard. Indie was a little upset that she would no longer get pretty things, but it wasn't as if she actually cared about the woman. She just knew well how to play the game. She suspected, though, that the woman was still the one paying the checks for Indie's numerous expensive dance lessons. Dancing was Indie's release and escape.

At breakfast Indie helped Olive, answering the girl's incessant questions while trying to eat. Then it was school time. Even in the summer the orphans had school. Except for the little kids. And they all had the month of August off. It had been drilled into Indie's head early that she needed to study hard and get good marks so that she could get a scholarship, because the orphanage couldn't afford to send her to Uni, so if she intended to go, she had to do well in school.

She was still holding out hope of being adopted, but made good marks just in case. Indie had no problem admitting it, she was a suck up. She chatted with teachers before class as she turned in her homework and offered to stay after class to help with anything. The teachers all knew about her of course, it was government policy that children in orphanages needed to be reported to the school as such. Additionally the lack of a last name made it pretty obvious.


End file.
